Something unusual is happening inside the Syrian government’s most loyal circles. For the first time since the new leadership consolidated power, a faint but unmistakable note of dissent is emerging—not from opposition figures or exiles, but from the regime’s own base. The shift is subtle, mostly online, and still cautious. Yet in a political system that has long treated loyalty as a fixed, almost hereditary condition, even a whisper of criticism carries meaning.
Officials have tried to dismiss the trend as a passing social-media mood. But the timing, and the nature of the complaints, suggest a deeper unease. After months of political maneuvering, unfulfilled promises, and a collapsing economy, some of the regime’s most dependable supporters are beginning to ask questions the government has spent years avoiding.
A Crack in the Wall
The immediate spark was political. Loyalists erupted online after the appointment of relatives of senior officials—including the brothers of Ahmad al-Sharaa—to prominent posts. The backlash was swift enough that one official appeared on state television to defend the practice. His argument was revealing: democracy, he said, has never succeeded in any Arab country, and monarchies prove that family-based rule is the most stable form of governance.
The irony was hard to miss. The same official had served on the preparatory committee for the National Dialogue Conference, a heavily promoted event that ended almost as soon as it began. He also sits on the Supreme Committee for Elections to the People’s Assembly—a body that selects voters rather than being selected by them. The defense of nepotism only underscored what many Syrians already know: the government’s talk of reform is largely performative.
A Regime Without an Enemy
But the loyalists’ frustration is not simply about appointments. It stems from a more fundamental problem: the regime’s long-standing strategy of mobilizing its base through manufactured enmity is suddenly faltering.
For years, the government has relied on a rotating cast of villains to keep supporters unified and distracted. The targets have shifted with remarkable speed—“remnants” of the old regime in the coastal region, the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), and most recently the Druze community in Suwayda. Each served as a convenient foil, a way to redirect public anger away from economic collapse and toward a designated threat.
The pattern resembled a localized version of Orwell’s “Two Minutes Hate”: the target mattered less than the ritual itself.
But in recent months, the narrative has collapsed under its own contradictions. The SDF, once denounced as separatists, are now partners in a landmark agreement. The threat of a major offensive on Suwayda has receded after negotiations. Even the “remnants,” once invoked to justify security campaigns, have faded from official rhetoric.
A base conditioned to rally against a clear enemy now finds itself without one. And in the absence of an external foe, attention has turned inward.
The Question the Regime Fears Most
With no new villain to absorb public anger, loyalists are beginning to ask a question the government has long evaded: What has actually been achieved?
The answer is uncomfortable. Multi-billion-dollar investment announcements have produced little beyond headlines. Fundraising drives have fallen far short of their targets. Electricity prices have risen sharply, deepening the misery of a population already battered by inflation and unemployment. The government’s economic strategy, if one exists, remains opaque.
“When there is no enemy, a regime is forced to confront its own performance,” said one regional analyst. “Creating an external threat has always been the most effective way to avoid accountability.”
Compounding the problem are developments that undermine the government’s carefully curated image. Remarks by former U.S. President Donald Trump referencing al-Sharaa have punctured the narrative of an unchallenged national “liberator.” A recent prisoner exchange with HTS-affiliated forces in Suwayda—treating a previously denounced militia as an equal negotiating partner—has raised eyebrows even among loyalists. Rumors of a Suwayda deal modeled on the SDF agreement only add to the confusion.
The Silence of the Hate Machine
The regime’s digital ecosystem—an intricate network of influencers, anonymous accounts, and coordinated messaging—has long served as the engine of its manufactured enmity. It has targeted “remnants,” the SDF, the Druze, and countless others, often with language designed to inflame and intimidate.
But today, that machine is unusually quiet. With no new enemy to rally against, the government’s online amplifiers have lost their script. And in that silence, loyalists are beginning to articulate frustrations that were once unthinkable.
For a government that has survived by channeling public anger outward, the prospect of that anger turning inward is far more dangerous than any opposition statement or foreign pressure. The regime is not facing a revolt. It is facing something subtler, and potentially more corrosive: the dawning realization among its own supporters that the promised “new era” looks remarkably like the old one.
In a system built on the constant manufacture of enemies, the most destabilizing moment may be the day the enemies run out.
This article was translated and edited by The Syrian Observer. The Syrian Observer has not verified the content of this story. Responsibility for the information and views set out in this article lies entirely with the author.
